Splatterhouse
by xXSlasherXx
Summary: Inspired by Battle Royale. The TDI teens are taken to an island where they will have one week to kill each other until only one of them remains in the Splatterhouse program. Who will be the surviving camper? Read to find out. M for violence, language, and adult content. Side romance Cody/Gwen.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **The characters of the Total Drama Series do not belong to me.

**Splatterhouse**

The room is cold and the air is damp. Within the large cabin, twenty-two teenagers stir awake, gently pushing themselves off of the dusty, wooden floor. Their frightened murmurs float through the room as their eyes all take in the darkness.

"What the hell is going on?" the one known as Duncan exclaims, his hands reaching out to grab an unseen piece of furniture that he would be able to support himself on to stand up, but instead he ended up gripping the shoulder of a girl by the name of Heather.

Since everything was dark, Heather was startled by the hand suddenly gripping her shoulder and smacked Duncan in the face. "GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF OF ME!"

Duncan pressed his palm against his stinging cheek and gaped at the unseen girl. "Easy, honey."

Across the room, Gwen stood up, not able to see any more that the other kids in the mess hall could. "Whoa…What's happening? Where are we?"

Gwen let out startled yelp as she tripped over someone's leg and fell face first onto the floor.

"WHOA!" the person's leg who she had tripped over was Cody. "Hey, are you okay?"

Though he couldn't be seen, Gwen just sat up and gave a timid, "Yes."

"Alright, what the hell is this bull?!" the loud voice that belonged to LeShawna screamed throughout the mess hall.

Bridgette stayed on her knees as she asked, "Okay…does anyone know where we are? Anyone?"

At that very moment, two large wooden doors at the front of the mess hall swung open. Twenty men dressed up in army attire with rifles strapped to their back all filed into the mess hall. The last one to walk in through the front door flipped the light switch, turning on the lights overhead.

"What the hell…?" Tyler murmured while the girl next to him, Lindsay, nervously twirled her hair with her finger.

The teens all watched as they twenty army-suited men made way for the two men who walked in last and in front of the group of men. One was a large black male and the over a short guy with black wavy hair and a sinister smile.

"Welcome, welcome, campers," he greeted jovially. "I'm Chris McLean, and I'll be your host for this event."

"Event?" Heather squealed in outrage, standing up. "We were all on a bus to be on this freaking reality show when all of a sudden we were all gassed. Just that the hell is going on here?"

DJ gave a glare in agreement. "Yeah, why are we all here? When we auditioned to be on this show I saw nothing in the application about being knocked out."

Hatchet and Chris both looked at each other before throwing their heads back and letting out two bellows of laughter.

"Poor little maggots," Hatchet mocked. "You thought you were on your way to be on a reality show."

Beth narrowed her eyes in confusion at the two men. "Well…that's what the fliers said."

Chris stepped forward. "No, no, no, allow me to explain. The reality show promise was all one big hoax to get people to audition, and therefore be chosen to participate in the government's new Order Program."

Courtney inclined her head. "Order Program. I never heard of anything like that…"

"Uh…DUH." Chris made a stupid face in her direction. "It was just passed."

"_What _are we all doing here?" Bridgette demanded.

Chris' eyes darkened, glee washing through him at what he was about to say. "By sending in your auditions, you all have been selected to participate in The Splatterhouse Event. A fight to the death in which you must all pick each other off until only one of you remains."

Everything went silent for the next few seconds before Duncan burst out laughing. "We…! Hahaha…! Have to WHAT?! Oh you're killing me. Where are the hidden cameras? When's Aston Kutcher going to pop out?"

Chris then sighed and then turned to Hatchet. "Hatchet? If you'd please."

Hatchet grinned and pulled out a black, square remote. "With pleasure."

He pressed the button. Duncan suddenly felt an electric shockwave go through his body. He topped onto his side as his body spasmed and jerked violently. All of the other teens in the room screamed and scrambled away from Duncan, whose body was still violently jerking around on the floor.

"Okay, Chef, I think they're convinced," Chris said, not taking his eyes off of Duncan's body. Hatchet nodded and switched off the collar around Duncan's neck. Duncan coughed and groaned in pain from the brutal aftershock of the electrocution. Only then had he noticed the silver collar around his neck. Seeing that, the other teens too all saw that they were wearing the same exact kind of collar that was around Duncan's neck.

Duncan slowly rolled over, everything in the room having turned blue. "F-Fuck…"

Owen gaped down at the guy. "What kind of sick setup is this?"

Chris grinned. "If you will all be quiet and listen to the rules, you won't be so questioning. Now then…In this game, you will each be competing against each other to stay alive. You will all have a seven day time limit to kill each other off, starting tomorrow. Should there be more than one person left alive after the limit is up, the collars with self-destruct, killing you all simultaneously."

Their faces all paled as they listened to the rules of this grisly game.

"You will all be given provisions _and _your own weapon that will be used as you compete in this game," Chris stated. "Keep in mind that if whichever person you manage to ice will leave behind their weapons for you, which will be yours to take."

This man…he was skinny, twisted, and evil like a dead oak tree.

Katie and Sadie held on to each other in fear.

Eva shot up off the floor. "ARE YOU ALL FUCKING INSANE? YOU'RE GONNA THROW US ALL OFF INTO THIS ISLAND AND MAKE US KILL EACH OTHER?!"

Chris licked his lips at the fear that was in her eyes. "That's the idea, Princess."

"B-But you c-can't!" Lindsay sobbed, grabbing and pulling at her hair. "This…This isn't right! How..How can you just make us do this to each other?!"

"It's quite simple really," Chris laughed. "Now, onto the further rules. Should you try to swim away from the island, your collar will self-destruct for that as well. So don't get any ideas."

This was a nightmare.

Every single person was trembling in fear.

Chef Hatchet pulled out a list. "When I call your name, come up and receive your duffel-bag."

Chris looked at the group of teens. "This is a game in which you can either hold onto your morals and die, or do whatever it takes to survive. It's really up to you all."

Trent stood up trembling. "Dude…this is all…you can't make us do this. I-I don't wanna die…NONE of us want to die."

"Then I suggest you fight hard to stay alive, boy," Hatchet growled and then called out the first name. "BETH!"

The girl jumped slightly before timidly standing up and having the heavy duffel-bag thrown into her arms. Hatchet then pointed to the open door; Beth, though still fearful, ran through the door and out into the night.

"BRIDGETTE!"

The girl stood and walked up to the rows of men, her face defiant and full of anger. "You all aren't going to get away with this."

Chris merely laughed. "What are they gonna do? Lock us up? The government is the one who established this program. Not us. We're just following orders."

Bridgette was then thrown her duffel-bag.

"Get going girl," Hatchet barked.

Bridgette gave them all one final glare before running off.

"CODY!"

This couldn't be happening, Cody thought to himself. It just couldn't be. Yet here he was, walking up to the men lined and receiving a duffel-bag. As though his feet were working on their own, Cody hurried towards the door.

"COURTNEY!"

She didn't want to stand up, she just couldn't. She couldn't stand and receive whatever it was that was in the duffel-bag. After all she had achieved in her academics, after her every award, she couldn't just let her life be lost in some barbaric game such as this.

"COURTNEY!" Hatchet shouted again.

She couldn't stand.

Hatchet snapped his finger, and the first row of men let out several shots from their rifles, firing them at the ceiling. The remaining kids all shrieked and backed away. Courtney automatically stood and ran over to them. Without a word, she was tossed her duffel-bag, and out of the door she darted.

"DJ!"

Still scared shitless from the firings from the guns, DJ stood and slowly walked up to receive his duffel-bag and went out the door.

"DUNCAN!"

The boy wobbled up to receive his duffel-bag, toppling down onto his knees. Chris grabbed his shoulders. "Easy there, kid. Take it easy."

Chris handed him his duffel-bag and led him to the door.

"EVA!"

Eva stood, swallowing back any fear that she may have felt. If this was truly a fight to the death the she would fight, no questions asked. She had to survive this. She took her duffel-bag and ran off.

"EZEKIAL!"

* * *

Minutes passed, and soon all of the "campers" had received their duffel-bags and had scattered through the island. Chef Hatchet and Chris both stared out the window.

"So, who's your money on, McLean?" Hatchet asked.

Chris shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe the big one, DJ."

Chris shook his head and softly sang, "Look out now, the game has begun. Kill each other off, one by one."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Hell Hath no Fury**

Courtney ran to a stop in the clearing in the middle of the woods, the crescent moon above providing a placid spotlight. Letting the duffel-bag fall to the ground, she dropped onto her knees. Her mind didn't want to register what was happening to her and the other twenty-one students that were taken to this island. A fight to the death between contestants. Something like this just couldn't be happening. It just couldn't.

Courtney was class president, an honor roll student, and she had just received a scholarship to Yale University. Now she was randomly locked within some barbaric death-match with twenty-one other people. She couldn't die here. She just couldn't.

Feeling the tears of fear pooling within her eyes, Courtney unzipped her duffel-bag to see what was inside. The bag was full of several bottles of water, five loaves of bread, and…and…a silver handgun. Courtney gasped as she pulled the weapon out of the bag, the steel glinting lethally under the moonlight. Courtney had an uncle who owned a gun shop, so of course she knew how to open the clip and see if it was loaded, and best believe it, it was loaded. Replacing the clip, Courtney eyed the gun as she held it in her hand.

The metal was real…the gun was real…everything around her was real. She was really on an island, God knows how far away from home. And yes…if she wanted to survive this…she was going to have to kill her way out. She was a girl who had worked hard to get to where she was; she couldn't just have all of that taken away from her.

"Hey…uh…are you okay?"

Courtney jumped and whipped around to see a short boy coming towards her, his duffel-bag swinging slightly as his side. Courtney turned around and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and glanced down at the gun in her lap.

"I'm fine…" She wiped her eyes and again and sighed. "Hey…you're name is Ezekiel, right?"

"Um…" he scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. I heard you crying, so I…I just thought that I might be able to help, eh? Uh…"

Oh…he would help her alright…help her by reducing the number of people that want to take away her life so that they can go on with their meaningless existences.

A smile crossed Courtney's face.

No…

That's not how it was going to go down. Slowly she stood up.

"Ezekiel…I'm sorry…"

He inclined his head. "For what?"

Courtney turned around to face him…this time, with the gun in her hand and her arm extended. The skin of Ezekiel's face paled when he saw the gun pointed at him.

"_W-What…?"_

"I'm sorry…for this." Courtney fired two shots, one through his sternum and the other into the spot between his eyes. Ezekiel's upper body jerked back from the impact of the shots before he toppled backward onto the ground, dead. Courtney's breathing accelerated and her heart pounded.

In just two seconds she had taken a life.

Just in the snap of two fingers.

She eyed the dead body in front of her like it was an exquisite painting. At the moment, a twisted smile formed on her face.

Yes…this was the only way out. If she was going to get out of this alive, she was going to have to play by this deadly game and kill every other person on this island. She looked down at the gun.

"Let's play."

* * *

Beth shrieked and curled up into a fetal position when the she heard the rocketing sound of two gunshots fly through the air. She didn't know how far away the person who fired the gun was, but she was too scared and too petrified to even bother. She wrapped her arms around her duffel-bag as though it was the teddy-bear that she used to hold close to her when she was a child. She made sure to keep herself well-hidden within the forest under the thick tree. According to what she was told, this so-called Splatterhouse Program was a barbaric fight to the death. And judging by the gunshots that she had just heard the first person had just fallen.

At that realization, any thought that she had to this whole Splatterhouse deal just being a big reality show joke flew out of her mind. Fear flooded through Beth as her mind immediately began going over what could happen to her.

"Well hello there."

Beth instantly leapt to her feet. "Who's there?!"

A beam of light from a flashlight struck Beth's eyes and the smiling face of Duncan came into view.

Beth used her hand to shield her eyes from the light. "You."

Beth recognized Duncan due to the recollection of him being zapped by the collar back in the mess hall, though he smiled as though he had never been zapped. "Name's Duncan. Heh, pretty girl shouldn't be alone in the woods."

Beth trembled. "Look…uh…I'm…I'm not going to fight you or…try to kill you, okay? So…uh…I'm just gonna leave."

Duncan's hand grabbed her shoulder. "Hey, hey, hey, where's the rush, beautiful? Do you really wanna go running around this island alone?"

"I…" Beth glanced around the dark forest. "I don't know…"

And then Beth felt Duncan's warm breath on the back of her neck. "You know I'm right. Did you not just hear the gunshots? Apparently this Splatterhouse thing is the real deal." His arm went around his waist. "Listen, babe, if you stick with me and I can make sure that you get out of here alive."

Beth trembled more. "Um…Duncan…I-I don't know…"

Duncan put his lips to her ear. "Awww, come on. Don't leave me lonely, honey. I can be real friendly…_real _friendly."

He nibbled on her ear. A shudder traveled down Beth's spine as she felt the warm wetness of Duncan's teeth.

"D-Duncan…p-please…s-stop…"

Too overtaken by the sensation of Duncan's wet cavern to her flesh, Beth didn't feel the cool blade of the hunting knife press against her neck. Only when she caught the glint of the knife in the corner of her eye did she look down at it in fear.

Duncan grinned like a fox as he grabbed Beth by her high ponytail and yanked her head back.

"Surprise," Duncan purred.

_SLLLSSSHHH!_

The girl didn't even have the chance to scream. Duncan sunk the blade into the side of her neck and swiftly sliced it from ear to ear. Blood rushed to the opened fissure within her neck, leaking out down the blade, to the handle, and over the backs of Duncan's fingers.

Gurgling sounds escaped Beth's mouth.

"Night-night, babe," Duncan whispered, letting the dead girl fall onto the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Goth and the Geek**

_Don't stop running, _Cody thought in his head as he ran, the duffel-bag thumping against his side as he bounded through the dark forest. The assigned weapon that he found within his duffel-bag – a double-bladed hatchet – was gripped tightly by its thick wooden handle in his right hand. Cody's blue eyes skimmed all through the dark spaces between the trees, looking for any signs of movement. Ignoring the burning sensation in his chest, Cody forced his legs to run faster. _Keep running…_

They can't kill what they can't catch, can they?

Heart pounding and blood racing, Cody could only follow the light that the moon was providing for him. The adrenaline pushed him to run and survive this game. This evil game. The barbaric game. It was when he saw the girl walk out from behind the trees he stopped. Letting out a cry of surprise, Cody stopped, leapt back, and held the hatchet out in front of him with a trembling hand.

"S-STAY RIGHT THERE!" he shouted. "I M-MEAN IT!"

The girl merely raised an eyebrow and stared expressionlessly at him. "Okay…look, whoever you are, just chill out. Okay? I'm not going to try to kill you."

Cody didn't break his stance. "Yeah? And just how the hell am I supposed to believe you?"

The girl merely sighed and then reached into her duffel-bag and pulled out a .357 magnum revolver. Cody's body froze up at that very moment when his eyes fell upon the gun. The girl's face remained solemn as she switched off the safety and pointed it directly at Cody's head.

"Drop the hatchet," she calmly ordered.

He immediately let the hatchet fall to the ground and helplessly held his hands up. _"O-Okay! Okay! J-Just…please don't shoot…!"_

She sighed. "I'm not going to shoot you; I just needed you to put down the hatchet." She replaced the gun in her duffel-bag. "My name's Gwen, and you can stop with the trembling and shaking, dude. I have no intention of hurting you."

Cody swallowed. "I'm sorry…Gwen, was it? You sound like you're telling the truth, but how do I know you won't pull that gun out again as soon as I turn my back?"

Gwen studied him for a second. "You don't. The same way I don't know if you'll swing that hatchet into the back of my head if turn _my _back."

Cody relaxed a bit.

She did have a point.

Cody looked Gwen over. She was obviously a Goth. He could tell from her dark clothing, makeup, and somewhat brooding eyes. "Um…so…you're really not going to kill me."

"Not unless you give me reason to," she replied.

He scratched the back of his head and looked away. "O-Okay…um…you seem really calm, given the situation that we're in."

"Hmm…Yeah, well I was never one to fly into panic, regardless of whatever messed up scenario that I'm in. But you're right. I'm probably am being a little too calm."

Cody's hand went to the collar around his neck. "I can't believe they expect us to just kill each other."

Gwenn nodded. "I never thought the government was _this _fucked up, but apparently I've been proven wrong."

"Well…according to those guys, we're going to have seven days to ice each other starting tomorrow. But, from the sound of things, the game has already begun. I guess we'd better sleep with one eye open, otherwise…"

"I can figure the rest out." Gwen nodded.

"Well…at least you lucked out," Cody stated, nodding in the direction of her duffel-bag. "You've got yourself a nice weapon to defend yourself with. You probably might be able to handle anyone who comes messing with you."

Gwen closed her eyes and looked away. "That may be true, but I really don't plan on hurting anyone unless I have to. What about you?"

Cody reached down and picked up the hatchet. "The same here. I guess no matter how long my brain tries to deny it…this whole thing is really happening."

Gwen gave a solemn nod. "I know."

"_RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_

Gwen shoved Cody out of the way when Eva leapt out from behind the trees and came at them both, crazily swinging a steel baseball bat at them. Cody rolled onto the ground while Eva charged towards Gwen. Gwen managed to duck as Eva swung the bat at her head and then shoot past her over to Cody.

"WHOA! WHOA! HOLD ON A SECOND!" Gwen cried, bending down over Cody.

"SHUT UP!" she roared. "I ain't dying here…not like this…"

Gwen carefully pulled her duffel-bag close to her and slowly reached inside. "Listen, just calm down or else we'll have to-"

"SHUT UP, BITCH!" she screamed, fury and fear burning equally in her eyes. "I sure as fuck am not going to be killed off by a bunch of _fucking spineless weakling motherfuckers like you!"_

Eva let out another animalistic cry before raising the bat again and running towards them both, the bat raised once more.

Cody raised the hatchet in some hopes that it would block the strike of the bat. Gwen however…whipped out the revolver, quickly aimed it at Eva's chest, and-

_BANG!_

The bullet flew through Eva's left lung. Eva's body immediately froze. The bat fell from her hand. Eva stared forward at nothing for a few seconds before she toppled backwards onto the ground, dead.

Gwen lowered the smoking gun down and stared at the now dead Eva. "Tried to warn you."

Cody stood up and stared wide-eyed at the body. "G-Gwen…how…?"

She looked back at Cody, her expression still the same. "How what, Cody?"

"You…You just…killed her…like…like it was nothing!" Cody practically shrieked.

Gwen put the gun back into her duffel-bag. "You're right…like it was nothing. Well Cody I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to seeing things like that. Do you think we'll be able to get out of this without getting blood on our hands?"

Gwen's eyes remained dark while Cody's merely stared fearfully into them. "I…I can't kill anyone, Gwen."

She stood and then began to walk away from him. "Then run."

"Huh?"

"Run until they can't catch you," she responded. "They can't kill what they can't catch. However, if you approach someone who wants to stay alive as badly as you do, someone who's willing to kill to make it out of here and you choose to not defend yourself and fight for your life…then you're as good as dead."

Cody stared in shock as Gwen's back and she turned and walked off into the night, not even giving a passing glance to Eva's opened-eyed corpse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Day One**

Cody snapped awake as soon as he felt the sunlight caress the outsides of his eyelids. Last night he did his best to stay hidden and awake; obviously, he dozed off with the hatchet gripped in his hand. Scolding himself internally, he whipped his head in different directions over the woods to make sure that no one was there, waiting to leap out from the shadows and attack him. Sighing in relief when no one came, Cody relaxed his grip on the hatchet and stood from his resting spot under the large tree. He stretched before reaching into his duffel-bag and pulling out one of the loaves of bread he had been supplied with. It may not have been much, but it was food.

As he ate the bread his mind floated back to the memory of Gwen gunning down that crazy chick the night before. The fear that was in Eva's eyes seemed to mirror the exact kind of fear that Cody himself was feeling. The fear in her eyes practically screamed at the both of them that she really didn't want to kill them, but at the same time she didn't want to die. She was just doing what this game was forcing her to do – fight for her survival.

Cody knew that Eva wasn't going to be the only one with that drive to survive, and that there most definitely were going to be kids like Eva coming at him, wanting to end his life so that they would be one step closer to saving their own.

Cody's eyes fell upon his hatchet.

Could he really kill a person?

* * *

Heather casually filed her nails in the shade provided by the pine tree. One might have thought that the girl didn't even know that she was in a competition of death with the placid expression on her face and the way she focused all of her attention on her nails rather than her surroundings. The cool wind blew, slightly blowing her black hair over the bridge of her nose. Pushing it aside, Heather looked up at the clear blue sky. To her, the clouds felt like an audience looking down upon them and watching this horrid game in amusement.

Why Heather was acting so calm and collected in this situation she herself didn't know.

She wasn't a girl who let the feeling of fear overwhelm her, so most likely she was using this sheet of equanimity to smother whatever apprehension was bubbling up inside her. She was an Ice Queen who had hoped to become a celebrity from winning a reality show, but in truth the only prize if you won was keeping your life.

And that was a serious rip-off.

"Well now…found you," a voice sinisterly giggled.

Heather looked up to see a guy in a red jumpsuit sneering down at her. Heather scoffed before returning her attention to her nails, paying to further attention to the boy in front of her.

"Hey, what's with the attitude?" he demanded, angered at Heather not taking him seriously.

"Piss off, loser," was her response.

The boy clenched his jaw. "What? You don't remember me, do you?"

Heather looked up at him. "Excuse me?"

He glared murderously down at her. "TYLER! You don't remember me? Tyler! Algebra! I sat next to you! I asked you out just two months ago, and you shot me down. Bitch…"

Heather rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself. I shot a lot of boys down, you dumbass."

Tyler clenched his fists and threw down his duffel-bag, smiling. "Oh…I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get some sweet payback, you uppity little cunt, and what better way to do so than in this game."

Heather felt a bubble of dread slowly sink into her stomach. "Get the hell away from me."

"No." His lips stretched into a twisted grin. "You that that you're just too good for any boy in school, don't you, Heather? That you're God's gift from Heaven. Well, the entire time we were in school I knew that _someone _had to put you in your place."

Tyler let out a manically blissful laugh as he reached into his duffel-bag and pulled out a butcher knife.

Heather's eyes widened. "What the hell…?"

"Now…" Tyler held the knife up. "Your clothes…take them off."

Heather laughed and stood up. "Are you kidding me, right now?"

Tyler tightened his grip on the knife. "I said, take your fucking clothes off."

She couldn't help but laugh again at Tyler's perverted demand. "Get out of my face you pathetic-"

Heather was knocked onto her back at that very moment. Tyler immediately advanced, climbing over Heather and using his legs to straddle her waist.

"I wasn't fucking kidding…" he hysterically hissed. "I WASN'T FUCKING KIDDING, BITCH!"

Tyler swung the knife down, letting only the tip of it whip across the delicate skin of Heather's right cheek. Heather let out a shriek of pain when she felt the knife scrape deep into her cheek. She immediately felt the warm blood rushing out of the surface of the cut.

"See what happens when you don't listen?" Tyler sadistically mocked, plunging the knife into the dirt above Heather's head.

Heather thrashed defiantly under Tyler. "GET…OFF OF ME!"

Tyler grabbed Heather's wrists and pinned her. "Where do you think you're going? Huh?"

Tyler's mouth went down to Heather's neck and began to shamelessly lick and nibble over her collarbone.

"NO!" Heather screamed, shuddering in disgust as she felt her neck being coated in saliva.

Tyler then slammed his mouth onto Heather's, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Heather could only let out muffled protests as she felt the organ swimming about in her mouth like a furious eel.

Heather waited until Tyler's tongue was at a certain angle before…

Chomp.

"_MMMPRHH!"_

Heather viciously bit down through the tip of his tongue and yanked her head back to rip it off, using her teeth. Tyler screamed and rolled off of Heather onto his side, blood beginning to gush out of his mouth.

Heather rolled over and spat out the pick piece of flesh. Feeling the blood from the cut on her cheek trickling down her face, Heather felt the fury swarming through her. She reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out her assigned switchblade. She flipped it open and turned to face Tyler, whose mouth was still pouring out red.

Heather ground her teeth. "You…scarred my face, you maggot."

Heather screamed in fury as she plunged the blade into Tyler's groin. A gurgled scream of agony flew from his mouth. Heather mercilessly yanked the blade out of his sensitive area and used her leg to kick him into his chest and onto his back. She climbed atop of him and began to ruthlessly stab the switchblade into his throat. She stabbed and stabbed, feeling the warm blood splash over the backs of her hands and between her fingers.

She stabbed him once more…

Twice…

Tyler's neck was left as a red and black pile of gore. Heather panted as she stared into the lifeless eyes of Tyler. With relief coursing through her like water through a creek, she slowly stood up and turned around…

And there she was. Courtney smiling pleasantly at the bloodstained Heather. She pulled out her gun and aimed it perfectly at Heather's chest. Heather's face became one of defiant rage. This was is…there was nowhere for her to run.

"Y-You…" she whispered in dread.

Courtney's smile didn't leave her face.

"Night-night," she whispered.

_BANG!_

The bullet flew through Heather's chest like a needle through a then piece of cloth. Heather's face gaped from the painful impact before she toppled onto the ground, her body curling up in pain on her side. She stared up at the sinister smile of Courtney before her eyes closed and her heart stopped beating.

Courtney smiled at the two dead teens before walking off, eager to find more flies to pick off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The Killer's Lust**

Trent never committed any crimes against people. Not once has he ever done someone wrong or hurt anyone in anyway. Trent had heard about this program from his friends at school, but he thought of it all as some joke for just a few laughs. He never thought that the government would have been so cruel as to send a whole group of teenagers to kill each other. This just wasn't right.

Trent had been wandering all over the island, trying not to stay in one spot for too long until he could find some sort of hiding place, though he doubted that there would be any place on an island that could keep him hidden for too long. Trent was considering just killing himself and getting it over with; there wasn't a nerve in his body that would allow him to participate within the program. But he just couldn't. Despite knowing that there was a good chance he was going to die, he wanted to just _leave _it to chance rather than off himself. He may not be a killer, but if he was going to go down, he was going to go down fighting.

"Long time, no see, guitar boy."

Trent reached into his pocket and pulled out the stun gun that was assigned as his weapon.

"Don't you freaking move…!" And then he saw his face. "D…Duncan?"

Duncan sneered before putting his knife to his lips and giving the tip a catlike lick. "It's been a while. Never thought I would see you here under _these _circumstances."

Trent stared at the large hunting knife. "Look…I…I don't wanna fight you…so just walk away and I'll do the same."

Duncan frowned. "Awww…You're hurting my feelings, Trent. Haven't you missed me?"

Trent knew that very things from the past that Duncan was going to bring up, and he didn't really want to review those perturbing recollections.

Duncan set his hunting knife into his sleeve and took a few steps towards Trent, his blue eyes glinting from the orange of the sunset.

Trent switched on the stun-gun; the crackling sound sprung into the air. "Don't make me hurt you, Duncan."

Duncan playfully inclined his head. "Hurt me? You're really going to try to off me after everything we did before I got shipped of the Juvie? You know…the entire time I was there I was thinking about you…" Duncan grasped the wrist in which Trent was holding the stun-gun and set it aside. "And I know you were thinking about me, too."

Trent gritted his teeth as he looked up into Duncan's eyes. "Just get away from me."

Duncan put his hands on both of Trent's hips and pulled him forward. "You can't forget about me. I was your first time. Or are you trying to act like it never happened?"

Trent shoved him away. "Look! Whatever we did in school was confidential. The only two who knew about it were us. God…You always loved messing with my head."

Duncan then shoved Trent onto his back on the ground.

"HEY!" Trent roared.

Duncan climbed over Trent and pinned him by his wrists. "Doesn't this bring back memories?"

"DUNCAN!" Trent thrashed. "GET OFF OF ME!"

Duncan smirked and then let go of Trent's wrists, but kept himself straddling Trent's waist. Duncan grabbed a fistful of Trent's shirt pulled him into sitting position before wrapping his legs around Trent's waist.

"Duncan!" Trent screamed, his face becoming flushed.

Duncan put his hands on both sides of his face. "Come on, Trent. Can't you be nice? We used to have some fun times together, you and I." He slid his lips over the shell of Trent's ear before nibbling on his earlobe. "And If I remember correctly…we also had some pretty hot times."

"Stop it…" Trent hissed.

Duncan chuckled. "I always loved the way you squirmed and thrashed under me, begging for more. Heheh. Such a shame you were too afraid to come out and let the school know that you bat for both teams."

Trent tried the turn his head away, but Duncan, being physically stronger, yanked Trent's gaze back onto him.

"You can't say you haven't missed this…" Duncan seductively whispered. "Wasn't I the only guy who was gentle with you? I taught you…so many things..."

"SHUT UP!" Trent roared.

"Shhh…" Duncan caressed Trent's cheek.

And when Trent stared into Duncan's eyes, he saw the visible dementia swirling around in his blue eyes like an eerie mist. Trent didn't know if it was just his imagination…but something within Duncan's eyes seemed to be trying to inform him that something within Duncan had snapped.

"Duncan…" Trent swallowed. "Look, just get off and let me—"

Then Duncan's lips found their way to Trent's. Trent surprised himself by not attempting to push Duncan off. As Duncan gently molded his lips into Trent's, Trent's mind slowly floated back to those days in which he and Duncan would always sneak away in the night and drive to that hill on the outskirts of the woods that overlooked the entire neighborhood and make love under the moonlight.

Every love note they ever sent each other…every phone call to one another they made at night…every time that Duncan was over at Trent's place for dinner and they would hold hands underneath the table…

Trent's guard finally melted; he wrapped his arms around Duncan's waist and let the pent up feelings that had been brewing in him for years come out. He moaned into Duncan's mouth as Duncan's fingers combed through his hair. Duncan pulled back and stood.

"We'll be able to pick up where we left off after I've picked some more of these little piggies."

The ecstasy within Trent's body left the moment that Duncan said that and was replaced with the worst kind of horror.

"MORE? Duncan…y-you didn't…" Trent stammered.

Duncan turned around. "Hm?"

"Tell me…Tell me that you didn't…_kill _someone…please."

Duncan's eyes took on that blank and distant look of insanity once more. He smiled…and Trent shuddered.

"I'll see you when I see you…_babe," _Duncan said before disappearing into the trees.

* * *

Harold's machete glinted as he held it out of front of him, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead. He was grateful to be alive even thought it was only the first day of the program. Harold may have been the nerd at school that everybody used to pick on, but if defending his life meant having to take down any person who came messing with him, then so be it.

Sweat rolled down his forehead and down the bridge of him nose from the swirling orb of fear.

Harold halted when he saw the two girls, Katie and Sadie they were called, sprawled under a tree, their eyes closed and the hands clasped together. Harold considered just walking away…but when he saw the small black vile laying at their feet…

Harold cautiously crept closer. Sadie and Katie's features came into better view. Their faces were slightly blue.

"Hey," Harold whispered. "Hey! Are you both okay?"

They didn't open their eyes.

Harold looked down at the bottle and picked it up.

"Oh my God…" he moaned.

Arsenic.

The two girls refused to the game…so they took the only way out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Sickened**

"Dear God…" Harold murmured to himself, stepping back a few inches. If there was any kind of omen that would dissuade him from hoping that he could survive this game in one piece, it was the two dead girls in front of him underneath the tree.

He couldn't stare at this any longer; he ran past the tree and continued once again to just dart between the trees, not stopping. Night was creeping along in the sky, and soon the island would be shrouded in darkness. Harold didn't doubt at all that more killings would occur. He was going to have to be on his toes and keep looking over his shoulder, never letting his guard down.

But then again…There were some players who had received guns. If they wanted to they could just stay hidden in the shadows and shoot from a distance. The moment he had that thought, Harold ducked behind a tree. He held the machete to his chest as though it were a crucifix and closed his eyes. His analogy for this was that winning meant you kept your life, but losing meant you're dust in the wind. Killing another person was something that was basically impossible for Harold, even if it was necessary for his survival. Harold was a peaceful nerd, even he would have agreed to that.

"Evil…just sinister…" he murmured to himself, thinking of the cruel government that allowed something like this to happen. Harold knew that he was on the other side of the island, away from most of the other teens.

Good.

But he couldn't help but ask himself: they said that if more than one person were left alive then they would _all _die. So the question was, could Harold hack up another person to stay alive?

Harold then wondered how many of the other campers had asked themselves that very same question.

* * *

Night fell once again upon the island. The fifteen remaining contenders either went into hiding or walked out into the night searching for other helpless players to pick off. The only two who really fell under the second category, however, were the now homicidal pair, Duncan and Courtney. Some of the others had lethal weapons, but lacked the balls to actually use them.

Unlike LeShawna.

The loudmouth girl stomped through the forest with the nature-loving Bridgette at her side.

"We have to find some way to get out of here," Bridgette fearfully whispered, gripping LeShawna's wrist. "They can't really expect us all to do each in, can they?"

LeShawna scowled. "This is fucked up on so many levels. These sick bastards put out ads to be in a reality show only to make the people who send submissions compete in this Hunger Games bullshit?"

"Easy, LeShawna," Bridgette said. "Getting mad isn't going to help us survive this." She sighed and fingered the silver collar around her neck. "Throwing us all onto an island and forcing us to kill one another…I agree with you that it's inhumane…but there's nothing we can do except try to find some way out of this game and off this island."

LeShawna calmed down a little. "Don't you think that's close to impossible, girl? We're on an island in the middle of the ocean, _far _away from any of our homes. There's no getting off this island — alive, that is."

Bridgette shuddered. "LeShawna, _please _don't talk like that."

LeShawna turned to her. "Bridgette, you _heard _what those goons said, didn't you? This game doesn't end until there's only one of us left. We can't just pretend that they never said that and that we really don't have seven days to…to…"

"Kill each other," Bridgette finished. "I know. I can't speak for you, LeShawna…but I just can't partake in this game, I just _can't."_

Bridgette reached into her duffel-bag and pulled out the burlap sack that contained the five grenades that were her assigned weapons. "Here, take these. I think they'll be more of use to you than me."

LeShawna eyed the sack with uncertainty. "You may want to hold onto those things, girl. You don't know what or who will be coming at you."

"I don't care," Bridgette tonelessly replied. "I'm not going to play this sick game. I'd sooner die than kill someone."

"Is that a fact?"

The two girls jumped and turned around to see the lone girl standing only a few feet away from them. Bridgette immediately recognized the girl from school.

"Courtney?"

Courtney smiled sweetly. "Well, well, well, long time, no see, Bridgette. Small world, isn't it?" She gave a dramatic sigh. "Such a shame. _Such _a shame."

LeShawna raised an eyebrow. "What's a shame?"

She withdrew the handgun and pointed it at the two girls. "Such a shame our little reunion isn't going to be very long."

"Oh shit…" LeShawna hissed.

Bridgette's face fell.

Courtney's face lit up in a sinister smile. "Now…which of you do I shoot first?"

Slowly, LeShawna's hand rose up to Bridgette's hand before she finally grabbed her wrist and tugged her away. _"MOVE, GIRL, MOVE!"_

Bridgette cried out in surprise and began to ran along with LeShawna.

"_NO!" _Courtney screamed in deranged fury as she fired a shot at Bridgettes leg…but missed.

Bridgette shrieked as she felt the bullet fly past the back of her leg. LeShawna and Bridgette turned and darted through the woods. Courtney immediately took off after the two girls, holding the gun out in front of her, still attempting to shoot either both or at least one of them. Either way, she did not want to let either of them get away.

LeShawna looked over her shoulder to see Courtney aiming the gun once more. LeShawna yanked Bridgette's wrist again and ducked them both behind a tree just in time for Courtney to fire another shot that scraped the bark on the side of the tree.

Bridgette and LeShawna squatted under the tree, Bridgette panting and shaking.

"Oh my God…" Bridgette moaned. "What are we going do? What are going to do?!"

"Quick! Give me one of your grenades!" LeShawna ordered.

Bridgette immediately thrust the sack into LeShawna's lap. LeShawna reached into the sack, pulled out a grenade, yanked the cork out of it using her teeth and flung it over the side of the tree. She hunched back down and put her hands over her ears; Bridgette did the same.

The seconds ticked by…

_BOOOOM!_

They felt the earth shake beneath them…and heard the bloodcurdling scream. Rocks and dirt flew past the tree. And then they heard the gurgling sounds…

Slowly, LeShawna stood and looked over the tree. Her hands flew up to her mouth as the smoke cleared.

"LeShawna!" Bridgette whispered. "LeShawna! What is it! Is she gone?"

In a matter of speaking…yes. She was.

The only thing that remained of Courtney was her upper-body. Everything below her waist was…gone. Blood poured out of Courtney's mouth. Her upper body had been blown away under a nearby tree, the stub of her spine poking out of her bottom. Her arms were sprawled out, and her eyes wide and staring up at the sky. LeShawna watched Courtney's left arm jerk slightly before what was left of her body went still.

The blast from the grenade had blown off the lower half of her body, leaving only her upper body…slowly dying…and now dead.

LeShawna felt as though she was going to vomit.

"Leshawna?" Bridgette slowly stood.

LeShawna raised her hand. "Girl…please…whatever you do…don't look. Just stay there. Just stay there…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Butchered**

"_Owen, did you find any firewood yet?" _Izzy's voice crackled out of the walkie-talkie. It was one of the two walkie-talkies that Owen had received in his duffel-bag. Izzy and Owen, who had both auditioned for the "show" together, were a steady couple. Both had taken refuge by a small pond in the woods. Through the first day, they had spent their time holding each other under a tree and hoping that no one would find either of them. Owen was somewhat horrified when he didn't receive a weapon, only walkie-talkies. But in a way it was useful. Izzy's weapon was a large can of pepper-spray.

Owen had left Izzy by the pond to go look for firewood. The night had come and things were beginning to get chilly.

"I'm still looking for a few twigs, Izzy," Owen responded. "There aren't exactly any thick pieces of wood lying around, but I'll bring back what I can."

"_Copy that," _Izzy giggled.

Owen put the walkie-talkie into the back pocket of his pants and continued to look around in the dark for some wood.

"Oh, hello." Owen grinned when he spotted a blackberry bush. Being the glutton that he was, any kind of food was deemed worthy of consumption in his book. If he was going to search for firewood he may as well not have done it on an empty stomach. He walked over to the bush, picked about eight of the berries popped them into his mouth. The berries exploded with sweetness on his tongue. He would have to bring some of these back for Izzy, but for now he was going to focus on bringing back the wood.

"Old McDonald had a farm…" Duncan's voice sang, making Owen jump and turn around in the direction of the voice. "E-I-E-I-O…"

Duncan slowly crept out from the dark shade of the trees and out into the light provided by the moon. "And on that farm he had a pig…E-I-E-I-O…with a little pig here, and a little pig there…here a pig…there a pig…" He pulled the hunting knife out of his pocket. "Everywhere a pig…pig…"

Owen stood and gaped fearfully at the knife.

"Hello, hello, doofus," Duncan eerily greeted. "Pigging out on berries, I see?"

Owen swallowed. "Look…I-I don't want any trouble."

"Sorry, but trouble's found you, and its name is Duncan." Duncan smiled. "So…where do you want it?"

"What?"

"Where. Do. You. Want. It?" he purred. "The gut? The throat? Do you want me to choose for you?"

Owen trembled and shook, and then felt the warm wetness forming around his groin. Duncan looked down at the dark spot in Owen's pants and laughed hysterically.

"You totally just pissed your pants."

He let out one more laugh before he ran towards Owen, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. Owen whipped around and attempted to run…only to trip over a thick tree root and land on his back. Duncan roared as he jumped and brought the knife down into Owen's sternum. Owen's mouth fell open as he felt the metal pierce through him. And then slowly, as his body registered the pain of being impaled, his face twisted into a wrinkled expression of agony. Duncan yanked the knife out of him, causing Owen to let out another agonized groan.

"Geez, you're so damn thick…" Duncan shook his head. "Guess I'm going to have to work a little…harder to off you."

Duncan hummed as he slowly climbed off of the gasping Owen. Blood from the wound in his sternum was beginning to pour over his neck. Duncan used the tip of the knife to rip open Owen's shirt, revealing his chest. Duncan seductively ran the tip of the knife down Owen's chest, leaving a thin, straight line of blood in its wake.

"Now…what do the fishermen do with their catch before they cook them?" Duncan gleefully chirped. "Oh! That's right. _Gut _them."

Duncan raised the knife and plunged in into Owen's stomach. Blood pooled in his mouth.

Static crackled in the walkie-talkie. Duncan only noticed the fallen device when Izzy's voice came out of it.

"_Owen? Owen, are you there?"_

Duncan giggled, picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button. "Oh, yeah. He's _right here."_

"_Hey, who is this?"_

Duncan put the walkie-talkie to Owen's blood-filled mouth. "I think it's for you, wide-load." The only thing that escaped Owen's mouth was the gurgling of blood mixed with tortured groans.

"_Owen?" _Izzy's high-pitched voice shrieked. _"Owen, is this you?"_

Duncan then threw the device aside, raised the knife and plunged it into the wound he just made, deepening it. More blood poured out of Owen's mouth. Duncan twisted the knife and began to cut away on the inside of Owen's belly. He was smiling the same smile he had when he pulled the wings from a dragonfly as a child. Finally, he pulled the knife out of the gaping wound and reached inside.

"_Ah…_So warm…and wet…" Duncan moaned, a chill of pleasure going down his spine as he gripped a thick, squishy organ. He carefully detached the organ from its spot in Owen's body and began to pull. Like a piece of string being pulled out of a shirt, Duncan pulled the bloody intestine from Owen's stomach. "Hehehe…nice."

Duncan finished pulling the organ out of Owen and dropped it into a pink pile at his feet. The air reeked of the metallic scent of blood. Owen, blood drenched over his chest, stomach, and pouring out of his mouth, lay dead. Blood was all over Duncan's hands, face, and shirt.

"OWEN!"

Izzy.

Duncan ducked behind a tree when he heard the girl running in his direction.

"Owen?" she looked around and then spotted Owen. "Owen? Are you…_OH MY GOD!"_

Duncan giggled. Guess she found what was left of her boyfriend. Duncan crept around the tree and slowly came towards Izzy, who had her back to him and didn't even hear him coming. As soon as a choked sob escaped from her mouth, Duncan grabbed her from behind, putting her in a tight headlock.

"_NO!" _Izzy thrashed and kicked against Duncan's grip.

Duncan raised the knife and plunged it into her chest, directly piercing her heart. Izzy's body seized up. Duncan, still having his hand on the knife, pushed it deeper into Izzy's heart.

"Shhh…" Duncan whispered. "Die…die now…die now…shshshshhh…"

Slowly, Izzy's eyes closed.

She let out one last shuddering breath.

Duncan yanked the knife out of Izzy and dropped her body onto the ground next to Owen's, her head on his shoulder.

Duncan sighed as he looked himself over.

He needed to find a pond.

There was so much blood on him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Day Two – The Alliance**

The beads of water from the stream glistened and rolled down Duncan's chest as he continued to wash the blood off of his clothes, skin, and knife. It was a brutal kill, even for a teenage criminal like Duncan. He was crouched over the creek, shirtless and wet. One could say that Duncan had abandoned what little morals he had in order to stay alive. He suppressed any feelings of regret at any of his kills. In this game, you could either hold onto your morals and die, or do whatever it takes to survive. And he was obviously going with the second option. But what Duncan wasn't aware of, was his slowly disintegrating sanity. With each kill, Duncan's mind became more and more twisted. With every drop of blood he got on his hands, every organ he impaled with his knife, every scream or moan of agony that came from his victims, pieces of his mental state of mind broke off into small fractions.

But Duncan couldn't pay any heed to the corruption of his mind; he was too blinded by the will to survive. His insanity wasn't going to keep him from winning this game. So he was indeed going to kill.

Kill them all…

One by one…

Like picking off little…bitty…flies…

Duncan smiled down at the now clean knife as it glinted in the moonlight. Night had befallen the island once again. Though Duncan didn't feel the least bit exhausted. As a matter of fact, he was considering stalking off into the night and looking for more kids to pick off. He would have had a good advantage; it was dark out, meaning he could just wait in the shadows for someone to come walking by and then leap out at them. Then he would stab them until their hearts stopped beating and listen to the lovely sound that the knife made as it impaled their flesh.

Trent, who was stumbling around in the dark, gasped when he saw Duncan by the stream…shirtless. What were the freaking odds of him coming across Duncan a second time? His feet wanted him to tiptoe away and into the woods, but his eyes…his eyes were keeping him locked in place and eyeing Duncan's body. Trent swallowed as he watched the beads of water trickle down the lean muscles of his chest.

Duncan scooped up water in his hand and splashed it over his left arm.

Trent was growing more and more angered with himself for being hypnotized by the tantalizing sight in front of him. His mind began to float back to those days where Duncan and he were always together after school. Whenever Trent's parents weren't home Duncan would come over. They'd never have sex or anything like that, but it always more of them taking off each other's shirts, crawling into Trent's bed and then gently kissing, touching, caressing each other's bodies. It was always intimacy with the two of them. Trent couldn't help but briefly long for all of that again.

"Like what you're seeing, guitar boy?" Duncan called without looking back at the trees.

Trent froze up.

_Shit!_

No point in hiding, really.

Trent stepped out from behind the trees.

Duncan turned around and sneered at Trent while wringing out the water from his t-shirt and sweater. "Still can't get enough of my body, I see."

Duncan got this strange feeling of mischief at Trent seeing him _after_ he had washed the blood from his clothes.

Trent blushed. "S-Shut up…I was just passing through."

"And you just so happened to be standing at the tree in a good view of me for about fifty seconds," he quipped. "You still suck at lying."

Duncan set his shirt and sweater on the rocks and walked over to Trent. "Well, go on."

Trent raised an eyebrow. "What? What are you talking about?"

Duncan ran his hand down his chest. "Touch me. Run your hands over me, guitar boy. You know you want to."

Trent gaped at him.

"What's with the shock, baby?" Duncan seductively teased. "You never pushed me away before. What's stopping you now?"

Duncan reached towards Trent, hand outstretched. Trent immediately swatted his hand away and wheeled around on his feet. Duncan chuckled as he watched Trent run off into the woods.

"As shy as the day we first met."

* * *

Day came.

Gwen, who had constructed something similar to a bed up in the branches of the trees using her duffel-bag as a pillow, stirred awake when the sound of a loud speaker turning on floated through the air and Chris McLean's voice cheerfully greeted those awake.

"_Good morning, campers! I must say, I am impressed. Only the second day and already the numbers have been halved! You all are really playing to win!"_

Gwen scowled at the unseen voice before putting her duffel-bag's strap over her shoulder and carefully shimmying down the tree and onto the ground.

"_I will now call out the names of the kids who have been taken out of the game: Beth Williams, Courtney Nielson, Eva Norris, Ezekiel Mathis, Heather Sung, Izzy Conners, Katie Bowen, Owen Michaels, Sadie Puck, and Tyler Galloway. The bodies have been collected and taken to the incinerators within our base. No need to take up the game area with the corpses of the losers, right? Haha. Anywho. Keep fighting the good fight campers! And remember; only one of you will make it off this island. Best of luck!"_

There had never been in person that Gwen wanted to strangle so much as she did right now. The sick bastard known as Chris McLean seems to think of a bunch of kids fighting to the death as some twisted form of entertainment. She may not have wanted to kill her fellow contenders, but if there was anyone that she wanted to have a bullet in their skull it was that asshole.

Gwen whipped around when she heard the sound of a twig snapping. She reached into her duffel-bag and pulled out her magnum. "Who's there?"

Out stepped the tired looking Cody. He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before smiling weakly at Gwen. "Uh…hey."

Gwen lowered the gun. "What are you doing here?"

Cody hesitated. "I…"

Gwen took a good look at his exhausted face. "Wait a second…have you been there the entire night?"

Cody's eyes lowered to the ground as he nodded. "Well…yeah."

Gwen glared at him. "What? Were you just waiting for me to doze off so that you could chop me to pieces?"

"What? No! I swear that wasn't it! If that were the case, then I would have done it as soon as you closed your eyes last night!"

Gwen relaxed; he did have a point. "Then what were you doing here?"

He fidgeted. "Well…you saved me from that crazy chick on the first night. I wanted to return the favor so…so I followed you here just to make sure that no one would try to harm you while you were sleeping. That's all…"

Gwen folded her arms. "Hm…well I appreciate the thought, but I can take care of myself. So just go on about your business, okay?"

Cody's face paled slightly. "Um…I…well…I was actually hoping that…that…"

"That what?" Gwen impatiently urged.

"That maybe…I could just stick with you…for the time being?"

Gwen stared at him.

"I mean, hey, we would probably make a good team, wouldn't we?" Cody insisted.

Gwen coughed. "You do realize that only one of us can get out of here…do you?"

"I know…but if we stick together to the end then maybe-" he stopped. If they were the only two on the island left, as unlikely as that was to happen, then they would be the last two campers left to kill one another, resulting in either one of them getting off the island.

Gwen chose not to cross the bridge until the time came. She could see in Cody's eyes that he was scared, so she figured that she may as well have let him tag along with her. She felt bad for the kid. But when the time came for them to fight, she would do whatever she had to in order to stay alive.

"Fine," she tonelessly answered. "But don't try anything slick."

"You don't have to worry." He reached into his duffel-bag and pulled out his hatchet. "You can even have my weapon if you don't trust me."

Gwen looked at the hatchet. "That's not necessary."

"No, really, it's okay," he insisted. "I don't want you to doubt me or anything. If you want my weapon, you can take it."

Gwen walked past him. "Keep your weapon. You don't have to convince me of anything. Besides, if you wanted to, you could kill me with your bare hands. So it won't make much of a difference."

Cody blinked and held the hatchet to his chest. He wouldn't kill her, and he was somewhat hurt that she thought he would after he expressed his gratitude for her practically saving his life. "Hey, wait up!"

But then again, he couldn't blame her for doubting him in this cruel game. He stuffed the hatchet into his duffel-bag and ran after Gwen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Go to Sleep**

It was some kind of strange coincidence that Noah had received a crossbow and twelve metal-headed arrows as his weapons, seeing as how his parents had made him take part in archery classes since he was ten. In his hand he held the loaded black crossbow with a thin yet lethal metal arrow in it, ready to be fired. Noah was a thin teen and not very useful when it came to physical combat, but his archery skills were not something to joke around with. With a mere bow and arrow he could pinpoint and aim at the desired target and fire. As a child, he never missed his target during his archery lessons.

Never.

With the crossbow in his hand and his duffel-bag swinging against his side, Noah crept along the trees, keeping his eye out for any of the other teens. He hoped with every fiber of his being that he didn't run into anyone who had their hands on a gun. No matter what he was armed with, it would be impossible to dodge a bullet. Though Noah was a boy of science, he considered it a miracle that he had survived the first two nights on the island. Point in fact, every second that he remained breathing in this situation was enough to be considered a miracle to him. Apparently, joining the army or committing a vicious crime weren't the only things that lead to a bloody demise. It was also merely being a fame-hungry teen with hopes to end up on television that would result in death. Noah knew that this whole thing was cruel and unjust, but really, there was nothing that he could do about it. If this truly was the government's only resolution to keeping teens under control, then Noah spat in the face of the government officials. Looking at the situation statistically, he only had a one in twenty-two chance of making it out, and those were odds that most definitely were not in his favor.

Still, he couldn't base his chance at survival on that alone. He could at least attempt to make it out. Killing someone…it would be easier to do that if someone was coming at him with the intent to kill. But he didn't know if he'd be able to just walk up to someone and kill them without reason, even if some of the others had done it already without thought. Noah sighed and stopped to rest underneath a tree. He had only allowed himself to sleep for only a few hours; his paranoia was keeping him awake and alert. Noah's body felt exhausted seeing as how he wasn't getting as much sleep as he usually did at home. Noah wondered what his parents' reactions were to learning that their only son was thrust into a fight to death with twenty-one other teens. He imagine his mother would be bawling her eyes out and her father smashing holes in the walls with his fists as he always did whenever he received devastating news; he had done that when he learned that his younger brother – Noah's uncle – had died of lung cancer from chain smoking.

And his little sister, Casey, would they tell her or keep it a secret until she's old enough to understand what has happened? Noah sighed as he realized that he would probably never be able to tuck his sister into bed again and kiss her goodnight.

"HELP ME!"

Noah shot up off the ground as soon as he heard the shrill scream. The sounds of hurrying footsteps were coming towards Noah's resting spot. He flattened himself against the other side of the tree, waiting only a few seconds before looking over the side of the tree to see a slim blonde-haired girl running at full speed, no duffel-bag swinging at her side. Most likely she had abandoned it so that it would be easier for her to escape whoever it was that she was running away from. Wait…Noah recognized the girl. He had tutored her at school. Her name was Lindsay. Lindsay Rivers. She wasn't the brightest girl, Noah should know. He tutored her! But what she lacked in brains, she always tried to make up for in beauty. She was just one of those girls. Despite that, she was in no way insecure about it. She knew that she was dense, yet at the same time it didn't bother her in any way. But soon she was to be the girl who was killed.

Lindsay ran past the tree, but soon stumbled to the ground when the black throwing knife was flung into the back of her leg, directly into her calf. She toppled to the ground and cried out in pain. Noah heard a snicker and watched as the instantly-recognized pretty boy of the school, Justin Leon, walked up towards the immobilized Lindsay.

"You put up a good chase there, lovely." He pulled out another throwing knife. "But this is where the hunt comes to an end."

Noah watched, trembling behind the tree.

"Help!" Lindsay weakly called, the pain of the knife in the back of leg audible in her voice. "Please! Someone…!"

Noah didn't know what to do…he could save her…he could. He looked down at the crossbow in his hand.

Justin laughed. "Baby…" He held up the throwing knife. "No one's coming for you." He prepared to throw the knife.

Was Noah really going to watch this girl die in front of him?

No…he just couldn't.

Noah crept out from behind the tree behind Justin. He carefully pointed the crossbow at the back of Justin's head…and fired. The arrow impaled through the back of Justin's head just as he threw the knife, throwing off the direction in which the knife was originally intended to go. The arrow went through the back of Justin's head and out through his right eye. Justin's body staggered a bit on his feet before he toppled face-first on the ground. Noah watched as his head slowly slid down the shaft of the arrow until his face touched the ground.

Noah shuddered and then looked at Lindsay. "Are you okay-?"

He stopped talking when he saw the handle of the throwing knife sticking out of her stomach. Noah gaped in dread at the blood slowly pooling around the blade. He was too late.

Lindsay looked up at Noah in fear before she coughed up blood and her back fell onto the ground. Noah hurried over to her. He put his arm under her head and sat her up.

Lindsay's eyes floated up to his face. "N-Noah…?"

He was surprised that she recognized him. "Y-Yeah…it's me."

Lindsay coughed again. "I…Is it bad…?"

Noah looked down at the knife. No doubt it had struck her vitals. At best, Lindsay only had a few minutes left. He stared helplessly at the knife and then looked at Lindsay with an expression that informed her of the worst. Lindsay swallowed audibly. Slowly, her hand wrapped around Noah's.

"Please…" she begged. "Stay here…"

Noah never felt more helpless. He could only look around for someone to come and fill himself with false hopes that they could do something to help…but no one would. There was nothing that Noah could do.

Noah looked back at Justin's body, the tail of the arrow sticking out the back of his head, and then back down at Lindsay and nodded. Lindsay and Noah may not have known each other that well, but as Noah tutored Lindsay they both developed some sense of respect for the other. Noah got to know that Lindsay wanted her beauty to make up for her lack of brains, whereas Lindsay learned that Noah wanted to make up for his lack of physical strength with knowledge. In a way, they both had gotten a little sample of the contents of each other's mind. And it could be said that it was what bonded them both.

"I'll stay." Noah gently pulled Lindsay's head into his lap. "It's okay. It's okay now."

Noah slowly combed his hand through Lindsay's hair. Lindsay's eyes drifted past Noah's head and into the sun, which slowly seemed to be growing brighter…and brighter…and soon it felt as though she was floating.

"Noah…" Lindsay moaned.

"Shhh…it's okay…just go to sleep, Lindsay," he whispered. "Go on."

Slowly, Lindsay's shuddering breaths became thinner…and thinner…and then…with one final breath, her chest stopped moving. Her blue eyes stared up into the sky…lifeless.

Noah, feeling the tears forming in his throat, put his index and middle to her eyelids and gently pushed them down, closing her eyes.

Noah clenched his jaw and allowed the tears to escape from his eyes.

"I…_I'm sorry," _he sobbed, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. _"I'm sorry…"_

He carefully pulled her head out of his lap as though not to awaken her and lay her down onto the ground. He reached down and yanked the knife out of her stomach and flung it at Justin's body. The know-it-all, uppity teen that Noah originally was had rotted away into nothing. Now he was a teen sobbing over his dead friend. Or…at least she was something close to that.

Noah leaned down and kissed Lindsay's forehead.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered one final time before walking over to Justin's body and yanking the bloody arrow out of his head. He turned back to look at Lindsay's body before running off into the woods.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Nine**

Gwen and Cody were lucky to have discovered the lighthouse overlooking the rocks at the edge of the ocean on the cliff. The only downside to the lighthouse was that it was tall and stood out over the woods, meaning it could probably be found by other "players". Using the chairs and tables in the small kitchen – Cody and Gwen didn't know if the lighthouse's furniture were put there by the sentinels of the game or if this lighthouse was just pre-owned by other occupants – they barricaded the door and agreed to sleep in shifts.

Gwen opened the empty refrigerator and was hit by the cool air. "Well, at least _this _works."

Cody sat on the floor, the table and chairs had also been used to barricade the door, and pulled out his remaining bread slices. "Hungry?"

Gwen closed the refrigerator and sat down next to Cody, pulling up her own duffel-bag. "I already have my own food. You may want to ration out whatever you have left, dude."

"Oh…right."

Gwen pulled out her own loaf of bread and the two of them ate in silence. Cody looked out of the small square window and saw that the sun was already setting. Gwen and he had been wandering through the woods when…when they discovered two bodies. A blonde-haired girl with a bleeding stomach and a tanned, good-looking boy who had a deep hole in the back of his head and an eye gouged out. Cody had vomited at the sight whereas Gwen merely shook her head and wondered what could've possibly happened to them.

"So there are only ten of us left now," she finally spoke.

Cody stopped eating. "What?"

"This morning they announced the names of the kids who had been killed," Gwen replied. "They announced ten names. And the boy and girl we found makes twelve. I recognized one of them. Lindsay Rivers. I went to school with her. We never talked, but she was well-known. So going by what we saw, there should only be ten of us remaining."

Cody swallowed. "There were twenty-two of us when this thing began, and already we're down to ten."

Gwen shrugged. "When people want to live, they'll either sit around babbling like babies or try to get out alive. Cowards."

Cody studied Gwen. "You seem…a little hostile towards society, Gwen."

Gwen looked at Cody with an eyebrow raised.

"No offense! Really!" Cody held up his hands. "I just meant that…you seem to have a negative view on people."

Gwen sighed. "Well…I can't tell you you're wrong. Yeah. People and I don't exactly mix together. Never have."

"Why?" Cody asked. "Uh…I mean…if you _want _to tell me why. You totally don't have to if you don't want to…"

"Stop walking on eggshells with me, dude," Gwen sighed. "When I was in school, I was always the odd girl out. I'll even admit that all through my years in middle school that I tried to be one of them. One of those idiot, ditzy blonde girls. I was just…I was just so desperate to welcomed. To be part of a group, I would have even became something that I wasn't just to impress people. But that all changed once I started high school. It was there I decided that I was going to stop trying to be part of the crowd and become my own person. Become my own person and forget trying to become one of the people who outcasted me…rejected me…" Gwen closed her eyes. "…ridiculed me."

"They…they bullied you?" Cody hissed.

Gwen gave him a single nod. "Almost every day. Girls tripped me in the halls…guys called me names I can't even repeat to this very day…" She sighed. "…but, hey, what can you do? Kids are cruel. It's not like there's anything that could have been done about it."

Cody felt sympathy for Gwen. "I'm sorry, Gwen."

"Don't be," she said simply. "I'm not. Hell, if it weren't for those things having happened to me, I wouldn't have known how cold and empty people are. My eyes were opened to a lot of things while I was being tortured. Now I know that, no matter what situation I'm in, I need to keep people at arm's length."

"If that's the case…why did you let me tag along with you?" Cody asked.

Cody could see the hesitation float onto her face, and then she sighed. "Partly because I saw that you we're scared. But, even though it doesn't look it…I guess you could say that I'm just as scared as you are."

Cody blinked in surprise. "You? Scared? But that night…with the girl with the baseball bat…"

"I shot her because I had to, Cody," she responded. "But from the moment the bus was gassed and we woke up in that mess hall…the very moment when those bastards told us that we would be fighting to kill each other…I've been utterly scared out of my wits. I know you probably wouldn't be able to tell; I do my best to keep my emotions in check. But I've been frightened throughout this entire game. I guess when you came along, I figured it was best to be beside another person who was just as frightened as I was rather than to just wander through the forests, alone and scared. So I figured..." She shrugged. "Eh…what the hell?"

Cody smiled and couldn't stop himself from touching the back of Gwen's hand. "Well you don't have to worry about me leaving you, Gwen. And you're right when you say anything beats being alone in this game."

Gwen gave a weak smiled before looking down at her and Cody's hands. He bashfully snatched it away.

"S-Sorry…" he whimpered.

"Don't worry about it," she replied; Cody felt an orb of warmth form in his chest at hearing the friendly tone within Gwen's voice rather than her emotionless tone.

"So what are we going to-?" Cody began.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Gwen and Cody both shot off of the floor. The door was shaking from the pounding that it was experiencing on the other side.

"_OPEN THE DOOR!" _a male voice screamed on the other side. _"PLEASE! SOMEONE OPEN THE DOOR!"_

Cody instantly recognized the voice of his classmate, Geoff Masterson.

"Geoff-?" Gwen slammed her hand over Cody's mouth and pulled him back down onto the floor.

"Shhhh!" she hissed into his ear. "Be quiet, Cody."

"But, Gwen-!" Cody whispered back, though it came out muffled under Gwen's hand.

"_DUNCAN! DUDE, NO!" _Geoff screamed on the other side of the door. _"DUNCAN, NO – AAARGH! Glllurssh!"_

Gwen and Cody both let out silent squeaks as the watched the blade of the hunting knife stab through the wood of the door, coated with blood – Geoff's blood. Looks of horror were on both of their faces even after the knife disappeared back into the door. On the other side, they heard the _thud _of Geoff's body hitting the dirt and rocks outside of the lighthouse. They briefly heard gurgling sounds, presumably blood in Geoff's mouth, and then silence.

Sweat dripped down Gwen's forehead. "And now…we're down to nine."

Cody squeezed Gwen's wrist like a scared child holding onto a teddy-bear.

A gentle knocking came at the door. "Little pigs, little pigs, open up the door and let me come in." A sinister giggle followed the eerily childish demand.

Cody was so flooded with fear that he voluntarily considered answering, "Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin", but didn't.

After seconds without an answer, Duncan sighed.

"Alright, then I'll huff and I'll puff," Duncan seductively purred. "…and I'll disembowel your little bellies."

_BWAM! BWAM! BWAM!_

It was obvious that he was attempting to smash the door in with his shoulder. Thankfully though, Gwen and Cody had barricaded the door with thick enough furniture, including the mattress from the bed that they had found in the unpredicted bedroom upstairs at the top of the lighthouse.

"_Open…this…FUCKING DOOR!" _Duncan's voice had gone from childish and evilly playful to that of a pure savage. _"COME OUT YOU LITTLE SHITSTAINS! MOTHER…FUCKER!"_

He was trying with all his might to break the door down, but with no success. The chairs, tables, and mattress held the door. Gwen reached into her pocket and pulled out her revolver just to be safe. After emitting a frustrated groan, Duncan gave up and stomped away – at least that's what it sounded like.

"Careful," Gwen whispered. "He may still be out there."

Cody gaped in dread at the door. "Geoff…"

Gwen grasped his shoulder. "He's dead, Cody. I'm sorry."

He wanted to deny it, but his false hopes were shattered when he looked at the crack at the bottom of the door and saw the dark-red blood beginning to seep in from the other side.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Day Three**

_This could be a problem, _Duncan thought in worry as he looked past the tree at the large muscular teen that went by DJ eating bread slices under the morning sun. DJ was far better built than all of the other kids that he had killed. No doubt DJ would be able to overpower the homicidal teen; his intimidating biceps would most likely get the better of him. Then again…there was the tactic of sneaking up on him from behind and delivering a swift and quick slash across his neck with the knife…but then there was the chance that he would just fling Duncan over his shoulders and down onto the ground onto his back as soon as Duncan got his arm around his neck.

Duncan silently sighed and began to creep away. He hated the idea of having to walk away from a potential kill, but the big bulky teen would have easily been able to turn the tables on Duncan and most likely be able to send him to his well-deserved demise. Duncan may have been insane, but he most certainly wasn't a fool. He'd have to worry about him later. Until then…the new day has just begun. It was time to get back on the prowl.

* * *

Cody yawned as he sat himself up against the wall of the kitchen, having just awakened from sleep. Gwen, however, was sitting across from him on the other side of the kitchen, eyes emotionless.

"Gwen?" Cody stretched. "Have you been awake all night?"

"Pretty much," she blankly replied.

Cody's eyebrows furrowed. "Gwen, we were supposed to sleep in shifts. If you were tired you could have just woke me up and you could have gotten some rest, too."

"I wasn't able to sleep any at all, Cody. My damn paranoia kept me up all night; if I even so much as heard a twig snap outside I assumed it was one of the other kids. I didn't see much point in waking you up just so that I could _try _to sleep."

"Well…if you say so." He scratched the back of his head. "So, what's our strategy?"

"Strategy? I guess what it was when this thing began: stay alive."

"Hm. Sounds simple enough," Cody nervously chuckled. "How long do you think that we'll be able to hide in here?"

"I don't know," Gwen responded. "I'm guessing until there's only two of us remaining."

Cody fidgeted. "I…guess you're right." He cleared his throat. "Gwen…can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," she answered.

"Why haven't you killed me?"

Cody's question was blunt and unpredicted; it caused Gwen's face to light up with surprise. "Where's this coming from?"

Cody shrugged. "It's just something that I can't help but wonder. I mean you yourself said that only one of us will be able to make it out of here. You've had plenty of opportunities to kill me. The night when we first met, and just last night while I was asleep. You know that there can only be one victor, yet you don't show any signs of wanting to kill me or anyone else in order to make it out of here. Why is that?"

Gwen folded her arms. "To be honest with you, I really don't know. I'm not really all that afraid to die, but I guess part of me doesn't even expect to make it off this island. In my honest opinion this Splatterhouse thing is just one big death sentence, and every minute that you live is just a step closer to your inevitable death. I may not want to kill people, but that doesn't mean I want to die. Well…at least not if it's not on my own terms. I choose to live out these final seven days in peace, and I'm not going to die a bloody death beforehand."

"But, Gwen, they said that if more than one person is left alive these collars on our necks with go off and electrocute us all to death," Cody imploringly argued. "There are obviously going to be other kids coming at you. One person living means all of the others have to die."

Gwen fingered the silver collar around her neck. "I know. It wouldn't be my intention to take all of the other players down with me when I've died."

"Gwen! Stop talking like you're already dead!" Cody barked.

The girl's face brightened in surprise once more.

"You don't know what could happen! Neither of us do. You never know, you could just make it out. Did you ever think of that? You're practically the most calm of all us."

"Me winning would mean that _you _would have to die," she shot back. "Did _you _ever think of _that?"_

Cody's jaw clenched.

"Exactly," Gwen said. "But…if you really want me to survive…" She pulled out the revolver and pointed it at Cody. "…then you should be willing to die to get me one step closer to staying alive."

"_G-Gwen…?" _The pounding in Cody's ear thundered and accelerated which each second that he gaped at gun pointed at him. _"What are you…?"_

Gwen stood up, her face stern and menacing. "Well, Cody? You want me to survive this don't you? Just like you said there's always the chance that I could get out of here. So…are willing to die so that I can get out? Are you willing to let me put a bullet through your skull? Are you?"

Like a scared kitten, Cody could only back away into a corner, pulling his knees up to his chin.

Gwen lowered the gun. "That's what I thought."

Cody's chest was still taking a merciless pounding on the inside as Gwen put the gun into her duffel-bag, walked towards the barricaded door, and began to push all of the furniture out of the way.

"Where you going?" Cody asked shakily.

"Anywhere but here," she darkly answered. "If you truly want me to survive this, then I'm going to do what I should have done in the first place: stay on my own." It took a good deal of strength to push aside the mattress, but after a few tugs she managed to heave it aside. "It's been real, Cody. But you're on your own now. Keep your little lighthouse."

Gwen opened the door – stopping briefly when she saw the dead body of Geoff – and then set off towards the woods.

"Gwen!" Cody hastily climbed to his feet and ran towards the door. The sight of Geoff's carcass stopped him in his tracks. Cody gawked down in horror at Geoff's open eyes and the deep stab wound painted with dried and caked blood. And then something struck him…he was alone now. He looked into woods and felt the apprehension snaking around his body and squeezing the life out of him like a hungry boa constrictor.

He was alone in this game…and out in the open.

He quickly hurried back inside the lighthouse and began to barricade the door once more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Close Call**

By the time the afternoon approached, the exhaustion had begun to wear Gwen down. Staying up through the night not getting a wink of sleep probably wasn't the best idea. The girl was now staggering through the woods, the land seeming to be tilting slightly. Her head felt as though it was full of feathers.

"Oh, God…" she timorously murmured. How long had she gone without sleep last night? Was it at the beginning of the previous day, all through the night, and then the hours of this very day that she spent standing guard for Cody? Gwen wanted to smack herself for letting her temper get the best of her and leaving the lighthouse that served as secure shelter. Gwen wasn't a girl that was easily angered, but the conversation she had with Cody opened up some old wounds. Now here she was, her body and brain worn from no sleep, her muscles weak. She fell to her knees, the tilting of the ground intensifying. She let out a yawn.

She could _not _fall asleep out here. As tired as she was, she would not have been able to climb into a tree and make another resting area as easily as she did before. Her weak muscles would have only made the act more tantalizing. She sighed and leaned back against a tree. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her to return to the safeness of the lighthouse. She could only imagine how terrified that little guy, Cody, must be now that he's alone…

Gwen shook her head.

What did she care?

It's not as if she made some blood oath to stick with him throughout this whole thing. As a matter of fact, it was easier this way. It's better to be alone in this thing. Gwen may have openly accepted the fact that she might die in this, but if there truly was a chance that she could live…NO! Damn it to hell. She was not going to let what that little scrub said put any kind of false hopes within her. IF she was going to die here, she could accept it. Sure she may have wanted to live but she didn't let that desire impair her ability to face the current reality.

Nodding to herself she stood up, but still staggered slightly in each of her steps.

"Awww…did someone not get enough sleep last night?" Duncan's voice cooed.

No…

The hairs on the back of Gwen's neck bristled when she saw Duncan coming at her from her left.

Duncan shook his head. "Now, now, what did Daddy tell you about staying up late? Does he have to bend you over his knee and give you a good…" He pulled out his hunting knife. "…spanking?"

Gwen whipped the revolver out of the duffel-bag and pointed it at Duncan. "Unless _Daddy _wants his head blown off he'd better stay right where he is."

"_Shit!" _Duncan hissed upon seeing the gun.

Gwen did her best to keep her face void of emotion, but her body wasn't working with her. The arm she was holding the gun with was shaking; the aim of the gun was faltering visibly. Duncan slowly multiplied into three images on Gwen's sight.

Duncan stared at Gwen for a few seconds before his mind registered what was going: this stupid bitch was so tired that she couldn't even hold her fucking gun straight. Realizing this, he dipped down into a half-squat and charged at Gwen.

Gwen pulled the trigger of the gun…and missed her target. The sound of the bullet rocketed through the air. Duncan tackled Gwen onto the ground, pinning her by her wrists. Gwen weakly wrestled and thrashed under Duncan's weight, but he kept her bound to the ground, both of her wrists fitting almost perfectly into the palm of his lone left hand.

Duncan inclined his head as he took the knife and gently, practically lovingly, ran the tip down Gwen's cheek and over her neck just so that she could feel the cool metal what was about to be impaled into her.

"You know…in these past few days…I've realized something," he whispered to Gwen. "And it's that people always have that same look of terror in their eyes just as they're about to die."

Was there fear in Gwen's eyes? She was actually afraid? Though she had accepted the thought of death earlier, she was now scared. But then she thought about it again…Duncan wasn't death. He was just a living reaper. A collector of lives. Her life was going to be brutally taken instead of ended as she intended to have it be at the end of these seven days. This twisted bastard was going to rip her up.

"It gets kind of boring after a while though," Duncan said, shaking his head. "So…I guess I'll just stab you so that you can make all sorts of faces. What do you say, baby?"

Duncan raised the knife, ready to begin with the precious torture that he craved.

No.

"NO!" Gwen screamed indignantly before finding the strength to kick her leg into Duncan's groin. Duncan let out a cry of surprise and pain as he rolled over onto his side.

"BITCH!" Duncan growled as he stood up, clutching his crotch with his other hand. Gwen was not hoping that he would recover so quickly. She scrambled onto her knees and desperately tried to crawl towards the revolver that had fallen from her hand upon being tackled. However, just as the tips of her fingers brushed over the gun's trigger, she felt the knife plunge deep into her right inner thigh.

Gwen let out a scream of agony at the knife going into the back of her leg and then being ruthlessly yanked back out. Gwen's hands dug into the earth as the searing pain shot up her leg. She could feel the blood leaking out of the wound and soaking into her stocking. She looked behind her to see Duncan licking the fresh blood from the blade.

"Nice try, you Marilyn Manson reject," Duncan mocked. "But the game ends here."

Gwen swallowed and closed her eyes.

_This is it, _she thought. _I'm going to die, right here._

"Now what part of you do I stab fir-?"

_WHACK!_

Duncan was struck in the back of the head by the thick handle of Cody's hatchet. Duncan let out another cry of pain and toppled to the ground, his head at Gwen's feet. Gwen slowly crawled away using the palms of her hands, trying not to put too much stress on her wound. She slowly picked up the gun, but Duncan was paying absolutely no attention to her now; he was glaring up at Cody, whose face was tight with rage and his teeth clenched.

Gwen stared up at Cody in awe. At that very moment, she saw that the scared little kid was nowhere to be seen in his eyes.

Duncan scrambled to his feet, his eyes cautiously locked on the hatchet in Cody's hands. "Who the fuck are you?"

Rather than answer the question, Cody swung the back end of the hatchet into Duncan's face. Duncan staggered and then toppled into the bushes, blood beginning to gush from his nose. He put his hand to his nose and glared in outrage at the blood it had collected. He glared back up at Cody; the glare held a promise of revenge.

Not saying another word, Duncan snatched up his hunting knife and ran away into the woods.

When Cody made sure that he was gone, he looked down at Gwen. "Are you alright?" He walked over to her and squatted down in front of her. "Did he hurt you?"

Gwen nodded. "He…got a good stab in the back of my leg."

Gwen realized at that moment that she had almost died. And Cody had been there to save her. The boy who she yelled at and belittled came out of hiding to save her. A girl he barely even knew. Cody retrieved Gwen's revolver and put it into her fallen duffel-bag. His blue eyes shone in worry for her.

"I'm sorry I didn't show up sooner," he said. "I heard the gunshot from the lighthouse and I assumed that…that something happened to you. I was scared at first…but I just couldn't let you die if it wasn't already too late."

Gwen's heart was still pounding, but the gratitude at Cody's sacrifice was drowning it out.

She couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around Cody's neck and pulling him close to her. Cody was startled, but soon put his arms around Gwen's waist and reassuringly rubbed her back.

"It's okay now," he whispered.

It had been a while since Gwen had hugged a person; she felt vulnerable…yet at the same time, since the game began, she felt safe.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Twisted Love**

The sun had begun to set by the time Cody and Gwen had returned to the cliff edge where the lighthouse was located. With Gwen's arm around his shoulder, Cody kept his arm around Gwen's waist, supporting her and making sure that she didn't put any weight on her severely injured calf.

"Thank you, Cody," Gwen spoke. "For everything. For helping me and saving me from that psychopath. You were awesome with that hatchet, by the way."

Cody blushed and gently replied, "Don't worry about it. Let's focus on getting your wound patched up."

Gwen nodded. "Right. I — wait a second. Do you hear that?"

Cody stopped when he heard the sound that Gwen reported. It sounded like…

"Helicopters?" Cody gasped.

As if on cue, the black helicopter flew out over the lighthouse. Strong gusts of wind from the propellers brought the branches of the trees to life in swaying dances. Gwen's green hair was blown back past her ears as she and Cody watched the rope ladder come rolling out of the helicopter and down to the ground in front of the lighthouse. A man dressed in an army-camouflage suit with what appeared to be a thick brown sack tucked under his arm climbed down the ladder. He hopped off the ladder and ran over to Geoff's body – it had not been touched or moved by either Gwen or Cody – and began to roughly pull it into the sack.

"Oh…" Cody moaned.

"I'm guessing that these are the guys who collect the bodies," Gwen tonelessly inferred.

When the man finally managed to shove Geoff's body into the sack, he climbed onto the ladder and was slowly raised back up into the helicopter with the now full sack hanging from over his shoulder. Gwen and Cody watched as the helicopter flew away. When it was gone they exchanged worried looks.

"Let's get back into the lighthouse," Cody suggested. Gwen nodded and together they made their way towards the lighthouse. On a positive note, they didn't have to step over the dead body of Geoff. Gwen removed her arm from around Cody's shoulders when they reached the door.

"I can make it to the kitchen," she said.

"Right," Cody replied, but he was slightly disappointed; he liked having Gwen close to him. She was so light and her waist so slim. Truth be told, Cody would have _carried _her all the way back to the lighthouse had she asked. That's how much of a loyal lapdog he was becoming. This girl most certainly was not like the girls he had encountered in his years of high school. To put it simple, Gwen was a girl who had a pretty decent head on her shoulders. She wasn't someone who could be put in the same category as the pretentious, shallow, air-headed, self-obsessed bimbos that practically ran the school.

Cody's mind snapped out of its state of deep thought when Gwen opened the door their eyes fell upon the back of a red-haired teen. The thin boy with a machete in his right hand jumped and whipped around in alarm upon hearing the door open.

He held out the machete. "Don't move! E-Either of you!"

Cody held up his hatchet. "I don't think you're in any position to be telling us what to do. Especially on our turf. Who the hell are you?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Gwen touched Cody's wrist and made him lower the hatchet. "Let's just calm down."

Cody shot a pleading look at her. "But, Gwen—!"

"Just…!" Gwen took the hatchet from him. She could see the same fear in the boy's eyes through the lens of his glasses that she had seen in Cody's on the first night. She didn't know if it was female's intuition, but something told her that the boy with the machete wasn't going to harm either of them. "Calm. Down."

Gwen turned to the boy with the machete and slowly put the hatchet onto the floor to show him that they weren't going to hurt him.

"Okay?" Gwen consoled. "Everything's okay. Just put the machete down, alright?"

The boy's jaw clenched, but within seconds he was carefully lowering his machete onto the floor. He stepped over the machete and put his hands behind his back.

"I'm…sorry," he sheepishly spoke. "I didn't know that this lighthouse was taken…I didn't think that anyone would be in here."

Cody relaxed when he saw that the boy truly meant no harm.

"It's fine," Gwen tenderly replied. "What's your name?"

"Harold," he answered. "Yours?"

"I'm Gwen," she replied. "And this is Cody."

Harold nodded in Cody's direction before turning around and picking up his machete. "Well I'm sorry to have wandered into your hiding spot. I'll leave."

For some reason, Gwen felt something close to guilt rise in her chest as she watched the boy walk towards the door. Was she really going to let this boy, despite only having just met him, go back out into woods where he would probably be killed or at least have to face another one of the contenders who want to take his life? Something within Gwen was compelling her to share their hiding spot with this boy rather than let him go back out into the war.

"Wait," Gwen said, grabbing his arm.

Slightly startled, Harold looked at Gwen.

"You know…" Gwen sighed. "If…you want to hide out in here with us…you're more than welcome to."

Cody's face lit up in shock. "Gwen?"

From the tone in Cody's voice, Gwen could tell that he wasn't so trustful of Harold.

Harold was utterly astounded at Gwen's offer. "Are…are you sure about that? I mean…you don't have to—"

Gwen held up her hand, silencing him. "It's really no problem. You don't have to go back out there when you can be safe in here."

Why keep the — probably — only safe spot on the entire island to themselves? Had Gwen been in Harold's shoes, she probably would have wanted someone to do the same for her. And then she took note that this act of kindness wasn't something she most certainly would not have done a few days ago, her being the loner that she was. Perhaps it was the niceness of Cody's character that was beginning to rub off on her.

Harold smiled warmly; deep within him, a flicker of gratitude ignited. He was utterly relieved at being able to stay safe within the lighthouse and not have to go out into the woods and have to keep looking over his shoulder and night. "Thanks…Gwen."

* * *

Duncan and Noah stared each other down, the slowly setting sun providing an intense illumination in their irises. The two boys had instantly locked their eyes onto one another at the very moment that they stepped out of the trees and gaped in surprise at the other's presence.

Noah immediately held up his crossbow while Duncan stood there, smirking.

He licked the tip of his knife. "That's one badass weapon you've got there, kid. Why don't I just take it off your hands?"

Noah held the crossbow out with one hand. "I'm fine, thanks. And if I were you, I'd stay right where I was."

Noah had recognized this guy from school. He had a reputation that swirled around the school like fire ignited from a ring of gasoline. He was that juvenile punk that every school had. The kid that most kids were afraid of, and the one that many girls wanted. The Bad Boy, to put it simple. Noah didn't like the fact that he was smiling calmly and talking with a suave tone in his voice despite having a crossbow pointed at him.

Despite his growing apprehension, Noah couldn't help but giggle at the dried blood in his nostrils and the purplish bruise at the bridge of his nose.

"You're acting pretty cool-minded for someone who's just had their face smashed in," Noah mocked.

Duncan's expression darkened with seething rage.

He sniffled. "Yeah, well, on a positive side, the bleeding from my face gives me just the rush and motivation I need to just want to gut the next person that I see. Congratulations. You're a prime candidate."

Noah's index finger wrapped around the trigger of the crossbow. "Do you realize what position you're in, asswipe? I'm the one with the upper hand here. Shouldn't you be begging me not to fire an arrow into you?"

Noah knew there was a good chance that he was probably going to have to kill Duncan, but part of him hoped that he could merely scare him away. He didn't want to kill him if he didn't _have _to, regardless of how much of a twisted prick this guy appeared to be. Especially not after a girl died in his arms. Noah saw the life leave Lindsay's eyes. Part of him was blatantly traumatized from the experience. Plus he had killed the Justin guy; could he really do it all over again? He hoped to God that he didn't have to. He didn't want any more blood on his hands.

Why the hell was Duncan smiling?

That weasel-like smirk.

"Well? Aren't you going to fire one of those arrows into my head, geek?" Duncan taunted. "What's stopping you? Well…besides what's about to happen to now…?"

Noah was about to open him mouth to ask what the hell it was that Duncan was talking about…before his back was riddled with flying bullets. The beads of steel impaled through the back of Noah's lower-spine, through his elbows, into the back and out the front of his shoulder and into his right calf. The crossbow fell from Noah's hand as he toppled over onto the ground in so much pain that it made him wish for death. Blood began to leak out of the wounds and soak into the edges of the bullet holes made in his clothing. He groaned and thrashed helplessly on the ground and looked up at Trent, who was holding the smoking Steyr TMP — Tactical Machine Pistol.

Trent looked down at Noah with a face of regret and pointed the gun at him once again. Noah could only whimper and moan from the pain of the many bullets burning deep within his flesh.

"I'm sorry," Trent whispered and put his finger on the trigger again. "I'll make it quick for you."

Without another word, Trent let out another load of bullets into Noah's body. Noah screamed as the bullets rained into him, striking his stomach and chest. He hacked blood out of his mouth and lurched forward before his body went still and he rolled over, dead.

Duncan smiled at Noah's body before looking at Trent. "Well done, babe."

Trent looked up at Duncan, his eyes shining and pleading like a puppy. "I just couldn't let him hurt you."

Duncan put his knife into his belt loop and walked over to Trent.

"I would have been able to dodge the arrows with my knife," Duncan claimed, stepping over the bullet-riddled body of Noah and then putting his arm around Trent's waist. "From the distance between us. But I was just waiting to see what your intentions were when you showed up behind him with that gun."

Duncan pressed his forehead against Trent's. "You were worried about me, weren't you?"

Trent sheepishly nodded. "I was. I've been worried about you from the moment I realized that you were here. In this game. I've been remembering how you always used stick up for me and kick the shit out of anyone who messed with me. Just now was my chance to make up for it all."

Duncan gave Trent a chaste kiss on the lips. "Glad to know you're on my side again. Now…why don't we take care of the fuckers who did this to my face next?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Day Four - Betrayal**

"_Geoff Roberts, Justin Leon, Lindsay Rivers, and Noah Peterson!" _Chris' voice announced the names of the kids who had died from the loudspeakers all over the island the next morning. _"And with that, we are now down to eight! Keep fighting the good fight, campers! We'll be looking forward to the congratulation party! To encourage your diligent participation, know that the victor shall receive a prize beyond comprehension! Best of luck!"_

Cody, who had been up throughout the night on lookout-duty, shook his head at the announcement. A congratulation party for whoever wins? Apparently to them this one some kind of game show, he thought. Whoever wins receives fabulous prizes beyond comprehension. It made Cody sick a little. The thought of there being an incentive for winning this game made the situation seem even more twisted and unreal. Would whoever won this game even care for the prizes that they offered? Seriously?

Upstairs, Harold and Gwen were asleep. Gwen was gently snoring in the lone bed that was in front of the only window in the lighthouse. Harold was napping on the floor beside the bed with a pillow under his head and a thin blue blanket draped over him. Cody was still surprised that Gwen had accepted this boy into their hiding spot…but it also made him feel a bit proud of her; she did something kind. Cody may have been hesitant to let him in, but it was probably because he had just saved Gwen from a loony with a knife. His entire system was still in attack mode. It probably would have benefitted both him and Gwen to have Harold around. After all, it was another person to stand guard while the others slept.

Cody's mind replayed the grisly memory of Duncan's knife going through Geoff's neck, out the back, and through the door. He shuddered. Maybe it could have been that the both of them wanted to tie up a loose end for the boy that they had failed to save. Rather than let another person who needed help die because they couldn't trust him, they would stay clear of the scenario of letting a boy die because they couldn't trust him. It wasn't like Harold was hostile. He put his weapon down, and Gwen hadn't even needed to pull out her gun. He showed, if not a lot, _some _potential of being a trustworthy ally.

Speak of the non-literal devil; Harold came walking down the stairs, stretching.

"Oh, Harold," Cody awkwardly greeted. "Good morning."

Harold smiled weakly. "Morning…um…well…I'm up. So…I guess you can go upstairs to sleep now."

Cody looked away. "Ah, that's fine. I'm not all that tired."

Harold shrugged and went over to his duffel-bag which had been lying on the table that was being used to barricade the door. He pulled out a loaf of bread and began to take out the slices.

This awkward silence was suffocating.

"So…" Cody spoke and then cleared his throat. "Did…you come across any lunatics out there?"

Harold sat down across from Cody. "No…I came across two dead girls, though."

"Oh…rough…"

Harold nodded. "They both poisoned themselves to keep from participating in Splatterhouse. They…were holding hands. It was an awful thing to see."

"This whole thing is awful," Cody responded. "I never would have thought that our government would do something so damn inhumane."

Harold nodded in agreement, his eyes becoming distant. "Splatterhouse…twenty-two go in, only one comes out."

Cody felt a chill go down his back. "Yeah. I wonder how long we'll be able to hide out in here, though…"

"NOT LONG ENOUGH!"

Duncan had his hands pressed against the glass of the kitchen window, smiling wide. Harold and Cody immediately scrambled over to their weapons, but by the time they managed to grab the handles of the hatchet and machete, Duncan had smashed through the glass using the steel of Trent's TMP. He swiftly jumped onto the linoleum floor and pointed the gun at both of the boys. Cody's face morphed into alarm.

"HAROLD, DUCK—!"

The deranged laughter that flew out of Duncan's mouth as he fired the gun was drowned out by the sounds of the bullets flying. Cody had managed to duck down onto the floor before he fired the gun.

Harold, however, wasn't fast enough.

The bullets pelted into him. His body jerked violently from the impact of the bullets flying into his chest. Duncan unloaded the full load of the bullets of the gun into Harold until the ammunition finally ran out. Harold's machete fell from his hand. Eyes void of life, he toppled onto his back, his lifeless gaze facing Cody.

Cody's grip around his hatchet tightened as stared in horror at the now dead Harold. He scrambled to his feet and gaped at Duncan.

Duncan studied the gun and smacked it as though it were a malfunctioning machine. "Crap…all out of ammo. Oh well." He flung the useless gun aside and whipped out his knife. "Guess I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way."

Cody let out an animalistic cry and flew towards Duncan. Cody swung the hatchet at Duncan's head. Duncan swiftly dodged the hatchet; Cody's hatchet flew into the wood of the table at the door. Duncan immediately advanced and knocked him onto the floor with a rough tackle. He leapt onto Cody and grabbed his neck with his hand in a tight grip. The hatchet had fallen out of Cody's hand from the tackle and skidded across the room. Drool began to seep out of the corners of Cody's mouth as Duncan tightened his grip on Cody's neck.

"Where's your little girlfriend? Huh, lover-boy?" Duncan jovially hissed. "It sucks. I was looking forward to tying her down and making her watch me…_skewer _you. But…oh well. There's nothing better than a private show, I guess."

Slowly, enjoying the fear in Cody's eyes from the sight of the knife, Duncan raised the knife.

_BANG!_

"_RRRRAAAAHHH!" _Duncan screamed.

Duncan rolled off of Cody, kicking and screaming in pain and clutching his right hand…which now had a bloody bullet hole in the side of it. Duncan screamed again at the sight of the hole. Blood poured out of the wound and stained into the white of his sweater.

Cody looked towards the staircase and saw Gwen standing there, her gun smoking.

"Cody, get off of the floor, now," Gwen ordered.

He climbed to his feet, retrieved his hatchet and ran over to Gwen.

Duncan let out a rumbling groan of pain and weakly stood on his feet, still clutching his hand. The blood was dripping onto the floor and beginning to form a small puddle of red. "TRENT!"

"Trent?" Gwen whispered.

The tall, thin boy came tumbling in through the window, crossbow in hand and duffel-bag swinging against his side. Gwen pointed the gun at him just as he pointed the crossbow at her. The teens, however, lowered their weapons and gawked at each other.

"Trent?" Gwen gasped.

"Gwen?" Trent replied with equal surprise.

Cody's eyes shot from Gwen to Trent. "Gwen, you know this guy?"

"We dated," she answered simply.

Duncan let out a painful laugh. "Well, isn't this just one big reunion? So much catching up to do. But I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule." Duncan walked over to Trent and put his arm around his waist from behind.

Gwen eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

"Put you gun down, Gwen," Trent said.

"You're out of your fucking mind, both of you," Gwen spat.

Slowly, Duncan's good hand slid up Trent's arm and over the back of the hand that he was using to hold the crossbow. "Observant, aren't you Goth-girl?"

Cody put his lips to the back of Gwen's ear. "Gwen…run."

"What?" she hissed without taking her eyes off of Duncan and Trent.

"You have the gun but you can't protect the both of us with it," Cody argued. "Keep the gun pointed at the both of them and run."

"Are you insane?" Gwen shrieked. "What about you?"

"I'll keep them distracted while you get out of here," Cody shot back.

"Awww, isn't he just noble, babe?" Duncan laughed into Trent's ear. "Listen lovebirds. Why don't we just kill you both together? We'll make sure that your hands are holding each other and all of that other corny romance bullshit."

Trent giggled. "You're cute, Duncan."

Gwen paid no attention to their little exchange.

She hissed to Cody, "I wouldn't be able to get far with this leg and you know that!"

Cody went quiet. He had forgotten about the wound in her leg.

Trent kept his eyes intently on the two of them. Perfect. Slowly, Duncan grabbed the shaft of the crossbow, raised his right leg and used it to kick Trent forward, sending him stumbling onto the floor and rolling at Gwen's feet. Cody immediately scooped Gwen up in his arms and ran as fast as he could around Duncan to the sink. They both briefly looked down at Harold's body ruefully upon passing it. Cody gently began to shove Gwen towards the window while keeping his eyes on Duncan, who was pointing the crossbow now at Trent.

"Go, Gwen, GO!" Cody urged.

When Gwen finally managed to crawl through the window, Cody came tumbling out after her. Cody grabbed Gwen's arm, draped over his shoulders and helped her limp away from the lighthouse. Duncan had paid no attention whatsoever to the escaping duo, his mind was too allured by the delicious emotion of betrayal in Trent's eyes.

Trent had turned over on his back. "Duncan…w-what are you doing?!"

Duncan licked his lips. "Sorry, guitar boy. Hope you're not expecting a goodbye kiss."

"D-Duncan…w-why…?"

"Pffft, only one of us gets out, Trent," Duncan stated and put his finger on the trigger of the crossbow. "I'm shocked you didn't realize that I was just stringing you along from the very beginning."

A tear rolled down Trent's cheek. "Duncan…I…I lo—"

The arrow zipped through the air and into Trent's skull.


End file.
